Not Like The Movies
by an-alternate-world
Summary: Seblaine Week 2014: Day 6 (Disney). Blaine had wanted that fairytale romance for as long as he could remember. You know, the one where the guy comes in and sweeps the girl off their feet with a few choice words and an earth-shattering kiss. ...Then he'd come out.


**Title: **Not Like The Movies  
><strong>Author: <strong>an-alternate-world**  
>Rating:<strong> K  
><strong>CharactersPairing: **Blaine Anderson, Sebastian Smythe**  
>Word Count: <strong>5,809**  
>Summary: <strong>Seblaine Week 2014: Day 6 (Disney). Blaine had wanted that fairytale romance for as long as he could remember. You know, the one where the guy comes in and sweeps the girl off their feet with a few choice words and an earth-shattering kiss. ...Then he'd come out. **  
>WarningsSpoilers: **Allusions to violence.**  
>Disclaimer:<strong> I am in no way associated with _Glee_, FOX, Ryan Murphy or anything else related to the FOX universe.

* * *

><p>The saturation of movies in Blaine's childhood had, perhaps, irrevocably altered his entire perception of relationships. It hadn't been helped by Cooper moving to Los Angeles, fuelling Blaine's imagination about what reality was like and how he could find True Love's Kiss. He'd spent years playing make-believe, dressing up to put on impromptu shows with his brother and imagining increasingly ridiculous scenarios to make his action figures save the day. Sometimes he'd invite his favourites to a very special tea party to explain to them the finer points of what he'd been learning at school that day.<p>

He spent years – and years and years and _years_, but who was counting? – being fed the idea that love was about intimacy and romance and taking care of someone and being swept off your feet… Unless you were the one doing the sweeping, in which case he was totally fine with doing that too.

Growing up with an abundance of Disney movies with dances that made him bounce around the living room and songs that got stuck in his head, he strongly began to believe that singing could change the world. He thought he could sing out of a window and birds would flock towards him, that the sun would shine a little brighter, that the flowers would turn towards him admiringly.

He believed that if he sang, it would attract a princess and they'd ride off into the sunset together singing the same song.

* * *

><p>Then he came out.<p>

* * *

><p>It was horrifying to realise that he wasn't allowed to have the Disney fairytale romance anymore because he was gay. His entire world lost some of its technicolour glow as the reactions of those around him grew cold. The light in his eyes noticeably dimmed as he struggled to accept that everyone looked at him differently now, like he was harbouring a demon inside him. He tried to explain he was still <em>Blaine<em>, he was still the same person who liked college football and singing, but it fell on deaf ears and hard hearts. He began to spend his nights lying awake, trying to discern whether he was a male who could sweep someone away or if he was going to be the one that was swept. He debated that he had the muscles to pick someone up, but he wasn't convinced he had the stronger personality to woo and charm someone to their knees.

He quickly stopped singing after he came out because so many people at school told him that only faggy guys were singers. It was easy to accept that singing wasn't going to attract anything towards him, whether it be the birds, a boyfriend, or even some new friends. Maybe the reason why he'd never been able to draw animals close was because they'd always known that he was different and that his quest for true love was as disgusting and abhorrent and socially unacceptable as everyone told him. Maybe the birds were as appalled by his nature as his parents and his ex-best friends.

There was a vain hope that moving from middle school to high school would erase all the problems, that maybe he could disappear because he was the bottom of the social food chain and who cared about freshmen anyway? It led him to begin striving to be inconspicuous in the hallways. He toned down the gel to be discreet about his weird habit for plastering it down. It didn't matter anymore that it had been a sort of armour if it made him remarkable. He reduced the amount of bow ties he wore so that he didn't have the senior jocks ridiculing him and asking why he'd raided grandpa's closet over the weekend. It had been the favourite insult at middle school – he'd gotten so lost looking at dowdy clothes that when he'd come out of the closet, he'd lost his style as well as his sexuality.

Now, he raised the hood of his sweater over his head to look like any other fourteen-year-old freshman. He endeavoured to be as ordinary as possible in his appearance and avoided making eye contact so no one could call him out on trying to challenge them in some sort of weird dominant corridor war. He wore neutral colours that didn't stand out or draw attention to his bid to move between classes without getting harassed.

It wasn't enough.

Those friends he'd had in elementary and middle school, those friends who'd spat in his face after he'd confessed his sexuality to them, seemed to have told _everyone_ that he was gay within the first week of starting. He was a pariah, cast aside by boys and girls because apparently being gay was a disease that was transmissible by having a polite conversation with him.

Worse, he was small for a freshman. He'd been patiently awaiting his growth spurt for a couple of years, knowing that would one day he would draw level with Cooper and his father's towering frames and then he wouldn't be so easy to pick on. In the meantime, his short stature made him target for accidental trippings and pushings and shovings. His books and loose papers routinely skidded through the hall and got trampled beneath the feet of onlookers. His lunch tray was often made to fall to the floor or splatter against his chest with a well-placed palm beneath it when he was searching for somewhere to sit. His knees and elbows were permanently bruised from losing his footing and crashing to the concrete beneath him.

Sometimes his parents noticed the hole in his pants which hadn't been there that morning. Sometimes his parents noticed he was quieter at the dinner table than usual and tried to persuade him into talking. One time, his mom had noticed the red stain on his hoodie sleeve from when he'd gotten a bloody nose after a particularly hard shove into the lockers and asked him about it. Another time, his father noticed the marks that wrapped around his forearms in the distinct shape of fingers when he'd been completing homework on his bed, the hoodie discarded on his desk, and asked him about it.

It was why Blaine failed to understand their shock and horror and disappointment and outrage when he landed in the hospital.

* * *

><p>Transferring schools was the easy part. Discovering a heavenly oasis, one which shielded him from the tough reality that people his own age were filled with hatred about something beyond his control, was the best thing that ever happened to him. No longer was he scared to look up from the floor. No longer was he expecting to be confronted with stony faces and violent arms. No longer was he nursing physical and emotional bruises from the daily torment. No longer was he tolerant of the death threats and taunts that followed him around.<p>

The hard part was that it was a boarding school several states over and he had to leave his home, his parents, everything that was familiar to him, behind. The hard part was making eye contact with anyone and trusting they weren't going to threaten him. The hard part was protecting his left wrist that had been broken in three places and shielding the left side of his rib cage where four ribs had cracked under steel-toed boots and a metal baseball bat. The hard part was sleeping through the entire night without waking up tangled in his sheets, a dying scream echoing through the empty room like a howling ghost

* * *

><p>There was a music group at the new school, one that transformed music from the mundane to the magnificent. The arrangements of popular music into something that relied solely on a dozen boys singing in harmony and unison was… He was mesmerised by the sound when he heard them rehearsing in the choir room one time when he'd been trying to sneak into the music room across the corridor.<p>

The sound haunted his memories and he considered peeking in on a rehearsal one time, knowing that it was probably snooping but wanting to see what exactly happened behind the closed doors. Sometimes he considered ditching first period to see them perform in front of the seniors, but what if he was written up for truancy and it went on his record and affected him later? Besides, he was too shy, too insecure, to express any interest. It had been several years since he'd bothered trying to sing, the sound and hope crushed from his spirit. He doubted he could sing anymore.

Even if he could, he had no faith that it would be good enough to blend among something so incredible that it had taken his breath away.

* * *

><p>Every time he tried to take a step forward in the healing process, something flared up to remind him that he wasn't allowed to recover.<p>

He'd decided to log into his Facebook account for the first time in months to see if there were any photos salvageable, any friendships he wanted to hold onto.

Instead, he was greeted with hundreds of notifications that innocently informed him of the deluge of hatred that had taken over his page. He had dozens of personal and public messages, abusing him for being gay, blaming him for surviving, promising that he wouldn't be so lucky a second time. He read it in the hopes that he'd understand why he was hated and that maybe, maybe, he could convince his mind and body that being gay wasn't something he wanted. He didn't _want _to be like this and maybe if he just kept willing it long enough, he'd fall in love with a girl and marry her and have babies just like he was meant to.

Sickened by what he read, he gave up in the attempt to save anything from the page. He abruptly deleted the entire Facebook account, leaving the words to linger in his mind until they metastasised to his organs and he began to believe he was thoroughly impure.

* * *

><p>In mid-March, when the snow had thawed and the sun was chancing a peek on the world again, he was surreptitiously leaning against the stairwell closest to the choir room to listen to the swell of sound that offered a faint warmth to his frozen soul. Sometimes it would end suddenly, or he'd hear hysterical laughs and various male names get shouted in tones that varied from frustrated to amused. He tried to imagine being inside the room, inside somewhere that sounded so…so accepting and enjoyable. He wondered what it would be like to belong to something where no one cared who he liked. Since arriving, he'd been too afraid to make any friends or really talk to someone. The betrayal of those he'd once given that trust to was scorched into his memory and the scarring on his bones.<p>

He heard a door bang open and flinched, clutching his book closer in his lap to pretend he'd just been idly sitting here to read and enjoy the music. Staking out a mysterious group of boys who liked to sing together was entirely too creepy, even for his habits of lurking around. At least this time he'd remembered to bring a book.

A pair of shoes clicked and clacked across the marble floor, long after the other boys had crowded into the stairwell and dissipated again. The shoes slowed and if Blaine looked over the top of his book, he could see the black pointy shoes had stopped in front of him.

"A stairwell seems like an odd place to be reading," a boy said, his voice light and curious.

Blaine bit his lip and folded the book closed, fully prepared to justify his decision, as he raised his head to explain that a stairwell was uncomfortable enough to keep him awake while he read and-

And then he promptly forgot what he was going to say.

The boy in front of him was, he suspected, a sophomore. He _could_ have been a junior though. He'd had the growth spurt Blaine longed for, his face both angular and amused, his green eyes sparkling. Freckles had been scattered over his cheeks like a fairy had dropped tempting glitter in front of him. The boy's blazer hung from his shoulders, his hands casually resting in his pockets as his head tilted to one side.

"Cat got your tongue, gorgeous?"

"N-No, I…"

God, why did he have to blush and stutter _now_?

He held the book to his chest as he stood, hoping he wasn't noticeably shaking as badly as he felt on the inside. Even standing a step higher than the other boy didn't make them level. _Surely_ he'd grow soon…

"Are you new?" the boy said, appraising him with the slightest of smirks tilting up the corner of his mouth. It was alluring in ways that it shouldn't have been and Blaine felt like a spell had been placed over him. He felt like he'd been struck mute under this boy's attention.

"I… I transferred in January," he managed, shifting on his feet and trying to straighten himself up to be as tall as possible and conceal his nerves.

"Two and a half months and I only _now_ meet you?" A larger grin spread over the boy's face and it twisted something warm to life in Blaine's stomach. It dangerously threatened to travel lower and cause a pretty embarrassing problem if he doesn't start obsessively focusing on dead, skinless kittens. "One of us hasn't been people-watching closely enough."

Was he… Was that _flirting_? Oh God. He had _no_ experience with this. He didn't know what to say. Or do. Or anything. No movie he'd watched, no pep talk from Cooper he'd listened to, had prepared him for this. He felt like a fish that had been comfortably living and he'd just been brutally removed from the tank to flounder and flop and gasp for some semblance of sanity.

"Well… I'm only new so everyone's unfamiliar to me," Blaine mumbled, his eyes lowering. He wanted to shake his head and smack himself in the face simultaneously for saying something so idiotically lame.

"So you're blaming _me_ for not seeing _you_?" The mysterious boy's grin grew when Blaine peeked up at him. "Fair enough, but I've seen you now and let me just say: I _like_ what I'm seeing."

A blush bloomed across Blaine's cheeks at the leering and he looked down again, inhaling unsteadily to try to will the blood from his face – and not to his lower extremities – while the other boy laughed.

"Sebastian," the boy, Sebastian, introduced, a pale hand with long fingers stretched between them. He considered not taking it but that would be rude and…well…he liked the attention, the flirtation. He wasn't sure what to do or say but it was incredibly flattering and it was far from his nature to deliberately rebuff someone.

"Blaine," he said, their hands clasping. He felt an odd tugging in his stomach and started mentally bringing up every image of dead kittens he could think of.

Sebastian held on a moment, tugging him closer until he was off the step and more acutely aware of how short he stood next to the other male. There was at least a head between them and he doubted whether Sebastian was a sophomore.

"I'll keep my eyes out for you more often, Blaine," Sebastian promised, his eyes scanning over Blaine's face in a way that made his body tremble, his skin flare with exhilarated heat. There was a lengthy pause, one in which Blaine was pretty sure his heart rate trembled, before he let go and brushed past him to ascend the stairs Blaine had been sitting on.

He was still standing there five minutes later with his hand opening and closing numbly, thoroughly dazed by the interaction. It wasn't being swept off his feet but it was...an encounter that had certainly left him speechless.

He couldn't wait for it to happen again.

* * *

><p>His obsession with the Warblers shifted to Sebastian. Now that he looked for the other boy, he seemed to see him relatively frequently. They often passed each other in the corridors to classes, where Sebastian might see him and offer a wave and a heated grin. Sometimes, Sebastian was surrounded by friends that would jostle each other and be caught in an animated conversation so he wasn't noticed.<p>

There were rare times that Sebastian was alone, that the corridor was empty, and they'd pass each other. Everything would turn slow and quiet and fuzzy and Sebastian was clearly asking him something and touching his shoulder in an attempt to gain his attention. Blaine had a tendency to stare dumbly at Sebastian or uncomfortably at his feet, barely able to spit any words out because he wasn't sure what the question was.

"Do you drink coffee?" Sebastian fell into the seat opposite, placing two recyclable coffee cups on the table between them. "This one has milk and some vanilla creamer in it, this one is black."

Blaine still had his spoon halfway to his mouth and it appeared to have gotten stuck there. In more than three months at Dalton, no one had actually sat down with him at meal times. True, no one tripped him over or threw it in his face, no one threatened to poor milk over his head and then followed through on that threat when he tried to plead for it not to happen, but…no one had sat with him either.

Sebastian frowned, but his eyes glittered in a way that made Blaine know he was going to open up his next line of innuendos. "Are you a robot and I just broke a circuit? Because I don't mind exploring you to fix it."

It restarted his brain with a rather loud clang and he lowered the spoon back to the cereal bowl. "You just want to touch me," he accused, his hand closing around the plain coffee cup.

Sebastian eyed his choice before the gaze swept over his lips and neck. "Guilty," the boy admitted with a shrug that was anything but contrite before taking a sip from the other coffee cup.

Blaine rolled his eyes and looked down at the coffee. He wasn't entirely sure whether it could be trusted or not – he still had too many lingering memories of people tricking him at the last schools – and it was still too early in the morning on a Saturday to have every part of him functioning well enough that he'd just go and get his own cup.

"Oh come on, I didn't pee in it!" Sebastian exclaimed, gesturing at his untouched cup.

"I think the fact you want to mention that concerns me," he muttered, finally swallowing some. It wasn't _exactly _his coffee order, but it was coffee and it was acceptable because it would help him think for the rest of the day.

"That fact I still haven't gotten inside your pants concerns me," Sebastian mused, a smile spreading over his face.

He might have started to accept that Sebastian was a massive flirt with an answer to everything. He was always quick to touch and thoroughly distract Blaine. Yet accepting that did nothing to reduce the way his face glowed with heat each time.

"I'm _fifteen_," he pointed out, attempting to begin eating his breakfast again before the cereal became too much of a mushy paste.

"And?" Sebastian prompted, clearly bewildered.

Oh.

Well.

He hadn't expected _that_ reaction.

"I… I'm too young," he mumbled, feeling the blood in his cheeks start to spread down his neck and across his shoulders. Oh great. He was going to have a full-body blush this time.

"And there are people in their eighties complaining they're too old, but they still do it. Did you know nursing homes have a statistically higher rate of STIs than high school students?" Sebastian rattled off, leaving Blaine choking on his mouthful of cereal.

"Why do you even-" He clamped his mouth shut when he belatedly realised he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that question.

"So what do you say, Killer? You, me, and a location of your choosing?" Sebastian's teeth were almost as exposed as Blaine's virgin status, his eyes glinting with mischief that Blaine thought he'd never escape.

"You're relentless," he complained, dropping his spoon to the bowl when the latest mouthful was the sort of mush he loathed and focusing instead on consuming the coffee.

"I do have a good sense of pace," Sebastian said with a thoughtful nod and dancing eyes. It took Blaine several seconds to understand the allusion and then he was spluttering on the mouthful of coffee again. "You're very easily flustered."

"And you're very… You're very out there."

Sebastian pursed his lips together, long fingers wrapping around the cup. It made Blaine imagine other things those fingers could wrap around and- Nope. Nope nope nope. Bad idea, Blaine. Public place.

"I _am_ pretty out," Sebastian said, fixing him with a stare that nearly made freeze to the spot. "Are _you_?"

The conversation tilted on its axis without warning, leaving Blaine's stomach diving and his skin turning clammy as a cold sweat broke out along the back of his neck. He'd guessed Sebastian was gay after that first encounter, because a straight guy wouldn't be _that_ forward with another guy. He'd never felt threatened by the advances and no one had bullied him for months. No one had asked him about his sexuality or his story and despite knowing Dalton had a zero tolerance policy, he didn't feel comfortable saying anything because he could recall the fall out that had happened last time.

"I need to… I have homework to do," he said, abandoning his cereal bowl and coffee cup to rush from the dining hall.

He needed distance from those entrancing eyes.

* * *

><p>He ended up in the music room. When the Warblers weren't rehearsing, when he knew the corridor was empty, it had become a safe place to sequester himself in. It wasn't like it was an unknown, unused room, but it just seemed like no one else had any interest in playing piano after hours.<p>

It worked to Blaine's advantage though, as he built up his skills after years of avoiding music out of fear for his safety. His fingers ran along the keys, blending scales with chords, adding in threads of melody, weaving a tapestry of sound that coloured the room. He couldn't help but hum along but his singing confidence was still fledgling, still locked away and surrounded by nerves. He moved faster, shifted his foot off the damper pedal, allowed the sound to build and build, swelling to a shattering crescendo and listening to the notes linger in the air…until he brought the noise back down, tapering it away until there was only the silence of his breathing.

"You're incredibly talented."

A harsh clunk of notes followed the statement at the fright he'd been given. Discomfort crawled up his spine as he glanced over his shoulder. It didn't matter that he'd tried to find a reclusive space to hide in and lose himself in music to calm down, he'd been found anyway.

Sebastian leaned casually against the doorframe, hands in the pockets of his jeans and his black t-shirt snug across his body. Blaine hadn't really noticed his clothes before but they definitely distracted him now, leaving his throat dry and making it difficult to swallow.

He bit his lip, shifting on the piano stool to face the other boy better. "Thanks."

"I've seen you play before but never wanted to interrupt you," Sebastian said, regarding him for a minute or two. He felt surprised that anyone had seen or heard him, but then he supposed Sebastian was in the choir room and maybe he had his own rehearsing to do. Over the noise Blaine made with the piano, he never would have heard a single voice. "I'm not sure what I said earlier that made you run, but I apologise."

Blaine shrugged awkwardly, folding his arms over his stomach. Sebastian didn't need to apologise. He should have been over what happened by now. It had happened in November and now it was April and soon it'd be summer break so he'd be returning back home and-

"Blaine?"

Sebastian sauntered closer until Blaine was forced to slide over on the piano stool to make room for him. The boy sat still for several moments before he reached out and pressed random notes on the piano. It was an attempt, perhaps, at echoing some of what Blaine had played earlier. His shoulder kept bumping against Blaine's and it was making him dizzy having Sebastian so close.

"If you're not gay, if I've been reading everything wrong these past weeks, then you _can_ tell me to stop," Sebastian said without looking at him, the plinking and plonking of the keys increasingly lacking any sort of discernible melody. "I promise I won't be offended."

Blaine watched Sebastian's hand, tempted to teach him how to play something easy like _Twinkle Twinkle_, but he wasn't sure he dared. It was better just to watch the pale hand move over the ivory keys. "I'm… Things didn't end so well at my last school."

"So I should stop?" Sebastian prompted, raising his left hand to attempt a chord that ended up clashing in a horrible discord of notes that made them both cringe.

"You _should_ stop playing piano," he suggested, making Sebastian chuckle. It made his heart skip a beat.

"Are you saying I should leave it to the expert?"

"Something like that," Blaine agreed, taking over from Sebastian to play a few bars when the other boy's hands moved away. He played something light and simple, his fingers moving with ease. He could hear a few wrong notes but he doubted Sebastian knew that.

"Show off," Sebastian muttered as he reached out, his hand hovering over Blaine's for a moment. He went completely still, his fingers depressed against keys as the notes floated and then died in the air of the music room. "Tell me to stop."

Blaine's heart fluttered but he held silent, knowing that saying stop was the last thing he truly wanted. Sebastian's fingertips tickled the knuckles of his left hand, against some of the scar tissue that remained on his skin. His lungs seized in his chest at the touch, the ghosts of a months-ago attack whispering through the air around him, until Sebastian's confidently fitted his fingers between the gaps in Blaine's own and everything fell silent around them.

His heart hammered as he stared at the way that white interlocked with tan. He couldn't help but recall those Disney movies where the princess had been swept off her feet by the handsome prince. He'd be a fool to deny that Sebastian was _incredibly_ attractive, but mostly he was distracted by the fact this was the first time he'd ever held hands with another boy. It made him realise, and accept, that he was definitely positively 100% gay. No girl had ever made his ribcage feel too small for his heart.

"You _are_ gay though, right?" Sebastian said, drawing Blaine's hand away from the piano to turn it over and trace the lines of his palm. "Otherwise I'm barking up an embarrassing tree and I'll give you permission to ridicule me until the end of days."

Blaine flushed and automatically ducked his head to hide it. "Yeah, I- I mean… I wouldn't let you be doing this if I wasn't okay with it…"

"The straight ones _do_ tend to pull away faster," Sebastian agreed, his voice teasing and making Blaine snort. He watched Sebastian's thumbnail drag over a line that was either his love or his life line. He wasn't sure which one was which but he wasn't sure it mattered. Both felt as though they were becoming increasingly and distinctly tangled.

His breath stalled and then stuttered past his lips when Sebastian's spare hand cupped his cheek, raising his face with more tenderness and reverence that he thought he'd ever seen in the movies. Admittedly, he couldn't think about any movies because he wasn't even sure he could remember his own _name_ right now but that wasn't the point because a _boy_ was right there, _right there_, and it- it- it-

"I really want to kiss you," Sebastian confessed, interrupting his racing thoughts and racing heart. His voice dipped to a whisper as he held Blaine's head higher, "But I don't want to take something from you if you don't feel comfortable with it."

Blaine's brain was moving so sluggishly that he thought maybe it had been eaten out by spontaneously ravenous snails. Was Sebastian seriously giving him the option of saying _no_? He might have been timid and shy, but he wasn't _stupid_!

Feeling vaguely infuriated that Sebastian couldn't tell how much he wanted it, he grabbed at the back of Sebastian's neck and pulled the boy's face towards him. There was a startled sound and it was only then that Blaine panicked because he had no idea what he was doing and what if his first kiss was all wrong and not like the movies and-

Sebastian effortlessly took control, angling his head to slide their lips together. It was soft and uncertain and all Blaine was conscious of was how badly his lungs needed oxygen and was the room spinning or was that just him and-

The pressure increased and his thoughts finally, blessedly, blanked out. His fingers curling into the hairs at the back of Sebastian's neck instinctively, eliciting a pleased hum that took him a moment to realise was from the other boy as his fingers strengthened against Blaine's cheek.

"_Breathe_," Sebastian urged, mere millimetres separating them before he leaned in again.

This time was better, as the tension seeped out of Blaine's skin with an exhale that had Sebastian drawing him closer with a firm hand settling on his waist. He felt something soft and wet brush against the seam of his mouth and parted his lips, allowing Sebastian to lick inside and coax him into responding. He briefly thought about what he'd read and what he'd seen but nothing, _nothing_, compared to this and he knew he had to give in to the temptation after realising that knowledge meant nothing compared to experience.

With Sebastian's encouragement, he tasted the sweet vanilla and bitter coffee lingering on the other boy's tongue. He learned how to time his sharp inhales so that the kiss never had to end and he learned how to navigate sliding his arms around Sebastian's neck without breaking the moment. Strong arms surrounded around his waist and he discovered he became more pliant and willing. He learned how to make Sebastian moan – scraping his nails against his scalp and then tugging lightly at his hair – and he learned that Sebastian could make him moan just as easily with a nip to his lower lip followed by the soothing swipe of his tongue.

It was Sebastian that ended up pulling away, pressing their foreheads together so they could breathe. Blaine hadn't realised just how badly the short gasps of air had affected him until he realised his breathing was completely wrecked and ragged, his heart thunderingly loud in his ears. He wondered if Sebastian could hear it.

"You hadn't kissed anyone before, had you?" Sebastian said, his green eyes blurring as they lowered towards Blaine's mouth and back to his eyes again

"I… I'm… No…"

He immediately felt insecure, that Sebastian had known it was his first time because his inexperience was so obvious in the kiss. He must have been really bad at kissing then for it to be discovered so quickly. Maybe he should have lied? But what if Sebastian then just thought he had to be a really terrible kisser? Because that would have been utterly humiliating and-

Sebastian kissed him again, softly, sweetly, chastely, and distracted him from his thoughts again. "I'm _honoured_," he assured, rubbing the slope of his nose against Blaine's.

"It wasn't…bad?" he said, fretting over the answer that Sebastian made him wait _eons_ for.

Except it just got turned around on him.

"Was it bad for _you_?"

_God_ no. It was mind-blowing. It was awe inspiring. It made him want to sing and dance around in a field of flowers and try to entice the birds from their nests again. It was everything he'd ever hoped it would be and now he understood why so many thousands of songs had been written about kisses and love and-

"Your silence is making my ego crumble into dust here, Blaine," Sebastian joked, causing him to roll his eyes and kiss Sebastian again.

He couldn't help giggling at how easy it was to just…be calm and natural and comfortable with himself in the moment. He hadn't felt like that since he'd come out, and wasn't entirely sure if he'd felt like that _before_ he'd come out either.

"It was okaaaaay," he said slowly, a smile spreading across his lips as Sebastian gasped in mock outrage.

"Okay? Just _okay_?"

Sebastian's fingers against his waist began to wriggle, tickling his sides until he was gasping and squirming and begging for mercy and pleading that he'd do anything. Only then did they stop.

Jerk.

"Anything?" Sebastian said, his cheeks pink, an eyebrow piqued, and his eyes brighter than Blaine had ever seen them. "I guess I'd better show you the _really_ good stuff then, Killer."

"Hmm… Maybe you should."

"Think you can handle it?"

Blaine tilted his head, trying to aim for a coy expression that felt utterly ridiculous but just made Sebastian's grin wider. "You'd have to show it to me first."

Maybe that first kiss, that first moment, wasn't quite the kiss out of the movies he'd watched as a child. Maybe he hadn't been swept off his feet by Prince Charming but instead someone trying to charm the fabric of his pants to relinquish control of his legs. Maybe it wasn't like all the imaginations he'd had late at night after he'd come out and maybe it wasn't the way he'd envisaged as a child when he'd explained, at length, that Optimus Prime was kissing Bumblebee all wrong. Maybe this kiss was illicit, against the social norms as well as his parents' expectations. Maybe it wasn't normal and maybe he was going to Hell when he died but…

He was honestly pretty sure he was okay with that, for the first time ever.

Sebastian knew how to kiss him until he couldn't even remember why he'd been so worried about being kissed in the first place.

And that was better than _any_ Disney movie had ever shown.

* * *

><p><em><strong>~FIN~<strong>_


End file.
